Chapter 20 shares with us the value of creating an altar of remembrance. I was reminded of an altar I created when my husband Dick died. We had been divorced for several years and, in fact, he had remarried but was separated from his second wife and living alone in a house on Martha’s Vineyard. Cal and I flew to Martha’s Vineyard to arrange a funeral service in a local church. As I was preparing to fly back to my home in California, Cal asked if I would take the cremains and keep them for a while. I agreed but on the airplane home I had to laugh at the situation. Dick and I had not been married for a long time. I had already grieved that loss at the time of the divorce. However, I discovered that, in truth, I was grieving again, for this loss. I was glad to be part of the ritual of saying goodbye at the funeral, but I did not expect to continue the process with his cremains in my possession.
When I arrived home, I decided to create an altar of remembrance, similar to that described by Levine in this book. I cleared off my coffee table and put a meditation prayer cloth over it. I put the box with the cremains on top with a photo of Dick and a candle that I lit every evening when I was home. I said a prayer and allowed myself to sort through memories of our time together. It was a healing experience for me. I kept the altar for a month and then took it apart. The box of cremains went into a closet until Cal came to visit and took it home with him.
Most of us consider an altar to be an important part of a church. Wikipedia defines altar as the table in a Christian church at which the bread and wine are consecrated in communion services. It is also defined in ancient Egyptian, Aztec, Mayan, and Mexican rituals as a table or flat-topped block used as the focus for a religious ritual, especially for making sacrifices or offerings to a deity. And a third description of an altar is as a shrine at which votive offerings are made. Shrines are found in many of the world's religions, including Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Chinese folk religion, Shinto, and Asatru, as well as in secular and non-religious settings such as a war memorial.
I now consider an altar to be a part of my spiritual practice. Over the past years I have created an altar wherever I have lived — a personal altar to my spiritual life. It started out as an altar to Jesus and Mary and has grown to include symbols of various Buddhist and Hindu teachers, as well as representatives of earth-based and Goddess religions.
When I moved to Bozeman, I purchased a used bureau of drawers in a light-colored, knotty pine wood with six drawers, three beside three. At the same store I found a large piece of furniture that is supposed to be a headboard for a queen-sized bed. It is made out of the same kind of wood and has three sections with a mirror in the middle section. I placed it on top of the bureau in my bedroom. In the center section I placed photos of the Dalai Lama, Jack Kornfield and Pema Chodron, and Stephen and Ondrea Levine. There are several small statues of Buddha — one of the laughing Buddha, one of the elephant Buddha, and several of Buddha seated in meditative pose. Included is a small golden plaque-like statue of a Tibetan Buddha called Vajrasattva. I also placed several crystals in various colors and shapes along with small colorful stones. There is a beautiful crystal votive candle holder given to me by one of my sisters.
On the left side of my altar are statues of Mary Mother of Jesus, a crystal Madonna and Child, and a pottery Mexican Goddess that was given to me by a sweet Mexican girl who was a transfer student at my brother’s house years ago. There are also crystals, other small beautiful stones, and a candle. On the right side is the graduation photo of my son Bobby, a Tibetan Buddhist bell, and a bowl for dinging the beginning and ending of meditation. I include a Mexican candy dish given to me by a friend just because it is beautiful. Everything on the altar means something to me about my spiritual life. It makes me feel good to stand in front of it and be silent, in reverence. I face it when I am sitting in meditation.
I believe that altars can be a way to remember a loved one and this includes people who have been important to us in our spiritual life.
To diverge for a moment, I want to share with you something from the book I mentioned in a previous blog called Aging as a Spiritual Process by Lewis Richmond. In a chapter entitled “I don’t like growing old,” Richmond reminded me of a meditation practice I learned several years ago and find very helpful in learning to accept my aging process. It is called “Horizontal time and Vertical time.” Imagine that you are standing with arms outstretched to the side, hands at shoulder height. Imagine that in your left hand is your birth. As you move along your left arm towards your body, you encounter all the events of your life up to now. As you reach your body and move through your heart area, you are in the present moment. Then as you move along your right arm towards your right hand you travel through your thoughts and feelings about the future from now until your death. This time-line is called “Horizontal time.”
The vertical line is centered in the middle of your chest, your heart area. The line moves upward to the “heavens above,” the realm of Spirit, Universal Consciousness, the field of all possibilities. It moves downward to the center of the earth. This vertical line keeps you reaching upward for the stars and downward grounded in the earth. In the center, the heart space is the present moment – the here and now − the only time you have to do whatever it is you want to do. If you imagine yourself in this position as a cross shape, the center line moves up and down in a vertical direction while the arms form the horizontal bar of the cross. The vertical line is called “Vertical time.”
What we can do about the past and its memories is to remember, face, forgive, and heal anything that keeps us from accepting what is happening right now. We do this in the present moment. What we can do about the future is to recognize that what we are doing, thinking, and feeling right now will create a future that we can accept and move through gracefully.
I am coming to believe that accepting my aging process with all its aches and pains, ups and downs, joys and concerns is instrumental in accepting my dying process. Building an altar, meditating, remembering horizontal time and vertical time as a method of healing and acceptance are all part of my spiritual practice and growth. I guess you know by now how important my spiritual life is to me. Sometimes I seem to forget that, but my life reminds me constantly to wake up, remain aware, and remind myself constantly to be in the present moment. Right here and right now is where I live and heal and grow in kindness and compassion. I am so grateful for this awareness.
Self-Inquiry Questions:
1. Have you ever created an altar of remembrance? Is this something you might like to do now or in future?
2. How does thinking about time as being “horizontal” and “vertical” affect your awareness of where you are right now in your life?
3. How aware and dedicated are you to your spiritual life and growth?
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